


Tops Off. Fred Perry Shorts On.

by gayvidtennant



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, i guess??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 09:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13567908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayvidtennant/pseuds/gayvidtennant
Summary: Miles and Alex take advantage of the nice weather and go for a bike ride. Inspired by Alex's quote: "We went for a bike ride. Tops off. Fred Perry shorts on." Pre TAOTU era





	Tops Off. Fred Perry Shorts On.

**Author's Note:**

> Also inspired by [this image](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/93/a1/6a/93a16ad34175c543a7efc17a0323812c.jpg)  
> This is unbetaed, so any mistakes are my own. Feel free to leave constructive criticism.

The summer breeze rustled Alex’s hair as he laughed. “Can’t you peddle any faster?” He asked, mostly just to get a rise out of Miles.

“I can’t,” Miles huffed, pretending to be agitated, “Having 150 pounds of dead weight makes it kinda hard to go fast, believe it or not.”  
_____  
After spending the past few days holed up inside, dedicating every waking minute to writing new music, both Miles and Alex agreed they needed to get out of the house. “It’s such a nice day out!” Miles had said, thrusting open the curtains to pour light into the gloomy room. “We should go out for a walk, maybe grab an ice cream or something?” 

“I don’t feel like walking,” Alex had grumbled. “Too much work.”

“We haven’t left the house in days! The most you’ve walked is from the couch to the toilet.” Miles pointed out, laughing. “Come on, it’ll do us good to stretch our legs.”

“Will you carry me?” Alex asked, only half joking.

Miles ignored him, grabbing two pairs of shorts and tossing one at Alex. “We’re going. Put these on.” Both boys stripped off their shirts and replaced the pajama bottoms that had started to smell foul from days of wear, Alex sighing dramatically the entire time. 

“See how nice it is?” Miles said as he opened the front door and walked out onto the porch. “It’d be a crime to stay inside any longer.” 

“Wait, I’ve got a better idea.” Alex said, spying his old bike leaning against the porch stairs. “You can ride that instead! Take it around the block, stretch your legs, and I’ll wait for you here.”

“I haven’t ridden a bike in ages,” said Miles thoughtfully, “but I’m not leaving you here. I bet Matt has a bike we can use; I’ll go ring him and ask.”

“Or,” Alex moved to block Miles from going back inside. “I can ride on the handlebars and you peddle. That way, I’ll still be out of the house and you can still get your energy out.”

“Are you serious? How much do you weigh? We’d tip over and break our heads open. Or fall into the road and get ran over.”

“It’ll be fine! Please?” Alex begged, giving Miles a pleading look he hoped he couldn’t resist. 

“You’re really that lazy?”

“My legs hurt,” Alex whined. “Please? We’ll just go around the block.”

Miles sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine, as long as you stop pouting at me. But I’m gonna be pissed if you kill us.”

________  
Miles struggled to balance and steer the bike at first, but he eventually got the hang of it. By the time they had ridden to the next street over, both boys were laughing and had forgotten their feigned annoyance at each other. “I can’t see over your head. Lean back more,” Miles commanded, after a while. 

“I’m scared I’ll fall off if I do.”

“You won’t. But if we crash into a tree ‘cause I can’t see where we’re going, you definitely will.”

“Can’t you just, I dunno –”

Miles cut him off, “You’re so difficult. You know that? Here. You steer for a second.” Miles took his hands off the handlebars, and wrapped them around Alex’s middle. While leaning forward, he slowly pulled Alex until he was leaning back on Miles. Miles put his head so his chin rested on Alex’s left shoulder, and Alex was supported by the right side of Miles’ body. “This better?” Miles asked, reluctantly letting go of Alex to grab the handlebars once again. 

The summer breeze rustled Alex’s hair as he laughed. “Can’t you peddle any faster?” He asked, mostly just to get a rise out of Miles.

“I can’t,” Miles huffed, pretending to be agitated, “Having 150 pounds of dead weight makes it kinda hard to go fast, believe it or not.” 

The pair rode around their block a couple times, before venturing into neighborhoods nearby, talking and laughing like schoolboys the entire time. Alex couldn’t a recall a time he’d felt happier. He’d devoted the past few days to nothing but writing music with his best friend, and once the album came out, they’d be touring and spending every minute of everyday together. People always commented how relaxed Alex seemed around Miles, and, well, they were right. Miles brought out a different side of him, one that was carefree and lively. With Miles, Alex never felt pressured to live up to the rock n roll persona everyone expected of him. He could be himself. More than that, he just felt happier around Miles. The swooping feeling in his stomach and the pounding in his heart that were present only around Miles made him feel dizzy, almost drunk on glee. 

The sound of Miles’ voice snapped Alex out of his thoughts. Alex reddened, hoping Miles couldn’t guess what he was thinking about. “Sorry, what was that?” 

“I said,” repeated Miles, “we should probably turn around. That downhill there is too steep; you’d fall off and get yourself killed.”

Alex hadn’t noticed that Miles had stopped the bike at the top of a huge hill. Miles was right; the hill was very steep. But he found himself feeling adventurous, a complete change in mood from a half hour earlier. “C’mon, Mi, don’t be a wimp. It’ll be fun. There’s no cars around; what’s the worst that could happen? I’ll hold on to the handlebars and you hold onto me.”

Miles sighed. He always had a hard time denying Alex anything. “Fine. But if you fall, it’s your own fault.” Miles again wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist, muttering “Just like the bloody Titanic,” under his breath.

“Alright, go on! I’ll count to three, and then we’ll go. Don’t wimp out on me!” Alex laughed excitedly. “Okay! One! Tw-”

Alex didn’t have a chance to finish before his counting was replaced with shrieks. “I didn’t say three!” He shouted over Miles’ laughter. Soon, his screams of fear morphed into screams of delight as Miles continued laughing. The hill was steeper than either had anticipated, and the bike accelerated to a frightening speed. Alex felt like he was flying. He attempted to stop screaming long enough to make another Titanic joke, but to no avail. If he were with anyone else, he would’ve been terrified. But he knew Miles wouldn’t let go, Miles wouldn’t let him get hurt. He trusted Miles with everything. 

Except then he realized the bike was moving too fast for him to control the handlebars. The wheels wobbled and shook in a frightening way, and a fleeting, oddly calm, thought entered his head: at least I’ll die with Miles. Miles didn’t seem to notice their impending and certain death, as he continued to laugh uproariously. “Mi – Miles,” Alex started, having found his voice in an attempt to warn his friend. “We’re going too fast!” Miles held him tighter in response, but didn’t seem to share the same fear. Alex considered his options. He could jump off the bike, injuring himself and probably Miles. He could continue to sit on this hell ride and stop when they ran into something at the bottom of the hill, probably a dustbin or someone’s house. But what if an unsuspecting kid crossed the street without looking? And Miles and Alex, unable to stop the bike, ran over them? It would be all my fault. Images of the two of them, in a hospital room, looking at a bedridden child hooked up to a heart monitor as they offered flowers to weeping parents filled his head. Alex knew what he had to do. 

He grabbed the handbrake and squeezed, hard.

In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had.

The bike flipped over forwards, flinging Miles and Alex off. They flew through the air, screaming in terror. They landed together, limbs tangled up, on the asphalt, and somehow the bike fell on top of them. With a groan, Miles managed to push the bike off of them. “You all right?” he asked, sitting up.

“I think I broke my arm,” Alex moaned, unwilling to open his eyes. “Is it sticking out?”

Miles answered him with a laugh. “’Is it sticking out?’ Mate, you’re barely even bleeding. Just a few scrapes is all. You’re such a baby.”

“Shut up,” Alex grunted, looking down at his bloody arms and legs. “I’m not barely bleeding! You see all that? It burns, too. Road rash hurts.” His feeble attempts of defending his honor only made Miles giggle. “Are you alright, though?” Looking up at Miles to see a scrape across his chin, all thoughts of his own pain ceased. Alex jolted up, demanding to see Miles’ arms and legs to inspect him for injuries.

“I’m fine, Alex,” Miles insisted, shooing away his attempts to help. He lay down next to Alex again. “I bet we looked pretty funny there, shooting off of a bike like that.” Miles said after a while, stifling a laugh.

Alex smiled at the image, as Miles’ giggle continued to stronger. Soon both of them were laughing uproariously, splayed out like idiots in the middle of the street, wearing nothing but short shorts and covered in scrapes and bruises.

“Why’d you hit the handbrake like that, anyway? We were doing just fine,” Miles asked once their laughter had ceased, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“I dunno,” Alex said, still smiling. “I pictured a kid, like, crossing the street and not seeing us or something. And then we wouldn’t be able to stop and we’d crash into them and w-”  
Miles cut him off. “Are you serious? That’s why you slung off of this bike? There’s no one around! I haven’t seen anyone on this street – in this neighborhood even – this entire time! You’re fucking mad.” Miles shook his head, but Alex could see him smiling. 

“I was just trying to look out for the safety of children,” Alex sat up, “You can’t blame me for that!”

Miles pulled him back down on top of him, so Alex’s head was resting on his bare chest. “You’re fucking mad,” he repeated, sticking both hands in Alex’s hair and ruffling it, ignoring Alex’s laughs in protest. “But you’re sweet. I’ll give you that.” Miles kissed the top of Alex’s head, not noticing the blush appear on Alex’s cheeks. 

After lying there for a while, Alex finally spoke up. “Should we get out of the road? Before a car comes. That might hurt a good deal worse than falling off a bike.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We should probably head home anyway,” Miles replied, allowing Alex to help him stand up. “But on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“I get to ride on the handlebars this time.”


End file.
